


Cryosleep

by FoxyEgg



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Dinosaurs, Angst, Animal Death, Dinosaurs, Gen, Human Experimentation, Human/Raptor Hybrid, Hunting, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, Kidnapping, Non-consensual experimentation, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyEgg/pseuds/FoxyEgg
Summary: Why is this particular Scout's life so fucked up?
Relationships: BLU Medic/RED Scout, Medic/Scout (Team Fortress 2), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Scout didn't like BLU, that was a given, but he never despised them. This was a can of worms he just shouldn't have opened alone. He contorted his face, unbelievably tired. He wanted his mom. He wanted his team. He wanted himself back. 

"Damn fuckers," he mumbled to himself.

Caleb was the poor boy's name. He was thrown into the grasp of the Blu Medic thanks to a mishap in the respawn. That. Fucking. Medic. Caleb was sent to the Blu respawn instead of his own. Apparently the respawns are both linked by some horrible cosmic energy that knows how much the mercs hate the others. The 19 year old inhaled deeply, smelling the sterile air. What were they going to do to him?


	2. Chapter 2

His team forgot about the lost boy. He was soon replaced with another young man with the name of Cole. Maybe MANN Co. had a thing for scouts with C names? Funky thing about the respawn, everytime it re-alived someone, it reduced they’re age to where they were before they died. Maybe a tic or maybe a way around getting new mercenaries when they died of old age. Caleb on the other hand… He wasn’t dying anymore, so he was going to start aging. It’s been two days since he ran. That was his thing: running. Whether it was from his brothers or from his reflection, he still ran. With his… Damn ‘enhancements’ as the Blu Medic put it, he was even faster. He bets he could run on water, but he hasn’t tested it. 

Honestly, he thinks the Medic was trying to replicate a raptor, but with changes. He lost his ears, and his favorite piercings along with them. He was scared when he looked down and saw no penis, just long hair in a puff where it should be; even when he franticly dug through it, he saw nothing, just skin. He was still hopeful because he saw a lump. It might be a tumor or his dick! Always be hopeful! Hair was fluffed on his legs, back, muzzle, and forearms, just (mostly) like a human. He could moved his muzzle just fine, like it was always there. It was skinny and short, slicking mostly to his face. Scars were everywhere on his arms and torso, they began to get smaller and neater on his legs and… He wiggled, felling something past his butt. He shot his gaze back and dropped his tail to the ground, shock covering his ego. Caleb squeaked and tried to run away from it. Then he realized it was attached to him, of which he then had a brake down about. Scales littered his tail, arms, muzzle, and legs. It didn’t feel like his. 

Caleb recalled a few things through the panic of his escape. He snarled and snapped at stationed sentries, stumbled through water, ran across wood, and scratched his way up a fence. It was all a blur. He swallowed and checked his body, seeing no wounds. He focused and found a strange feeling in his heart, he breathed out and decided to ignore it, turning towards his rumbling stomach.

For the record, Caleb has zero idea on how to hunt, but that’s in the past now! He hunkered down for about an hour in the blazing sun of the desert, right outside of Twofort. Caleb took cover under a tree, sweating and panting.

“Fuck you sun,” he panted out, weakly flipping off the sun with one of his four clawed fingers. His fith was a dew claw on his forearm, also clawed. 

Caleb sighed and grunted, urging himself to his feet. No one was out, well, Bushmen were, but other than them, no one was out. He hopped over to the fence, indeed seeing the two snipers staring down their scopes at each other. Caleb raised an eyebrow and shrugged, Bushmen are weird things. He leaped as high as he could and clung to the fence, quietly climbing over it. Not wanting to make a thump, he climbed back down in. To his dismay, one of his toes got caught on the fence, making it clatter extra loudly. He tensed his shoulders and turned to look at the snipers slowly, finding them to be aiming  _ right fucking at him _ . Caleb yelped and ducked in time to dodge a flying bullet from both Red and Blu. His eyes widened and he dodged an onslaught of bullets while also trying to yank his claw out of the fence. He eventually got it out, skidding into a sprint as he was chased by bullets. Caleb yelled as a bullet hit his ankle, definitely slowing him, but not enough to land more shots. He screeched as he barreled himself into the water below the bridge, just missing a rickoshaying bullet.

Caleb grunted and launched into a nearby drain, mumbling, “paranoid bastards.”

One more shot nearly hit him after he said that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and ideas are always welcome! I always run low on ideas.


End file.
